


Thirteen

by notjustmom



Series: The Boys in Sussex [14]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, M/M, Retirement, Sussex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-30 21:39:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12117759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom





	1. Chapter 1

Sherlock watched John fall asleep in his chair, Gertrude at his feet. They had worked for hours to clear up the tiny graveyard. One day soon, they'd have to investigate who was buried there, some, the last ones, buried back a dozen years ago, were easily read, one of Emily's brothers and his wife, died within months of each other. He'd have to get John out of the chair soon, but he wanted to finish his letter to Molly.

 

...and to answer your question. I think John is, hmm, adjusting slowly to having a family, where he had only me, Mrs. Hudson, and of course, you and Greg for the longest time. There are times when memories will hit him at bad times, but I think he likes getting texts from Harry, and calls from his mum. They both seem to know when he needs to chat, especially at those times when I can't reach him. I've given up trying to understand what we have here. 

The boxes are almost ready, the tractor is supposed to arrive tomorrow. Yeah, me on a tractor. I'll get John to take a couple of snaps to send to you.

Grace's visit went well. I was pleasantly surprised by her. Like Z, she seems ageless, though I know she struggles with the passage of time, it was good to see how she so easily fit into the life of the village again. She is moving back here when she gets everything squared away in London, I'm sure I could ask Mycroft to help speed up the process, but I think we all need a bit of time to adjust to the idea of her being here full time. At the same time, I enjoyed having her here, and though I know there will be hiccups, we all have our quirks and habits, but we are all old enough to know how to deal, I think, and I can only learn from her. She grew up raising the bees on the farm, and she already gave me some old books that Gladys had in the attic, they kept such beautiful records of the bees, the weather, and production over the years. Okay yes, I'm a little excited about seeing the farm finally becoming something. Just today, John and I, and one of the villagers, Phil, I think you might have met him when you were here, can't remember; we worked on cleaning up the family graveyard, some of the stones are in bad shape and we will need to work to restore them a bit, and do some research on who exactly is there. There is even a tree house that Grace and Emily played on together as children, I want to rebuild it for your little one, eventually. Yes, I am home, Molly. It feels odd to say, but, I am. I have to go, but please feel free to write or call when you get bored enough, and when you get to see snaps of the little one, let me know.

Much love,

-S

 

"John."

"Hmmm..."

Sherlock slid his hands over John's shoulders and down his chest, reveling in the slightest sounds John was making, feeling him quiver at his touch once again reminded him whom he belonged to. Yes, he knew he was slowly becoming attached to this house, the village, the people in it, but his heart belonged to the man who turned in his chair suddenly and kissed his neck.

"Damn."

"Uhm-hmm."

"Hungry? I could make us some -"

"No. I just want you."

"Say that again." Sherlock rumbled at John's words.

"I want you. Just you."

Sherlock turned and watched as John's indigo eyes grew darker and the gold flecks sparkled at him. "I'll never get used to that -"

"What?" John whispered at him.

"Your eyes, John. Some days I think you just bewitched me, only explanation -"

John blinked up at him and smiled. Sherlock shook his head and sighed. "What you do to me..."

"Upstairs?"

"Please. Come on, Gert, time for bed." Gertrude yawned and stretched and slowly led the boys upstairs, then found her spot on the rug, curled up and went back to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Howard arrived with the tractor just after tea the next morning. John blinked at the bright red...what exactly did it remind him of...a mechanical dragon? He shook his head as Howard climbed down and greeted him.

"We can use the old shed to house it for now, may need to do some work on it - John, I - just wanted to let you and Sherlock know, how much we all appreciate you being here, I haven't seen the village buzz like this in years, not since before - Grace left. It is - I can't tell you - what it means -"

John nodded. "Thank you, Howard, we appreciate it. We weren't sure how we'd be received here, but -"

"JOHN! It's here!" Sherlock burst through the door and stopped short, when they turned and smiled at him. "Sorry, but, it's a tractor, John. All the bells and whistles, right, Howard?"

Howard nodded and winked at John. "And a seat for two. Hop in. Sherlock, and I'll show you how everything works, right?"

Sherlock turned and glanced shyly at John. "I promised Molly a couple of snaps of me on the tractor..." John kissed him lightly and Sherlock whispered, "a tractor, John."

"I know, love."

Sherlock clambered elegantly onto the tractor and looked down at John. John honestly couldn't remember the last time when Sherlock's eyes glittered like that...no, he could, just this morning in fact. He pulled out his phone and took a few snaps, as he recalled waking up in Sherlock's arms.

 

"What?"

"Nothing."

John looked up into Sherlock's eyes. "No, you're - tell me?"

"I just - I never thought we could have this, all of - "

John laid a finger on Sherlock's bottom lip and whispered, "I love this place, but you know, don't you? That it wouldn't mean anything without you. To see you this content, this happy -"

"I love you."

 

John whispered, "I love you, too," up at Sherlock, then waved as the tractor rambled into the pasture.

 

"Hey, Mum."

"John - how are you?"

"Fine, no, I'm good, we're good. Howard just brought over the tractor. A bright red tractor. Sherlock is like a kid on Christmas Day. I took snaps of him on it - Howard is showing him how all the bells and whistles work, I'm sure he'll spend the rest of the day memorizing the instruction manual - how are you?"

"Clara's over helping me go through things - I still have - is there anything you want from your room - it - I never changed it. Just want to be sure before -"

"No, Mum. Nothing I need - I have everything here, except you."

Grace looked at the phone for a moment, then whispered, "I'll be home soon, John."

"Phil came over and we got the graveyard cleaned up, need to do some research, but maybe you know -"

"Yes, and I think there's a record in the little library by the post office, they have a collection of some of the family histories, the Franklins had been there for generations. The farmhouse replaced an older structure, Em and I would find old bits of things when we would explore, when I get back, maybe we can -"

"I'd love that, Mum - here he comes, gotta go, love you -"

"Love you, too."

Clara looked up at her and whispered, "Grace?"

"Hmm - it's just the first time he's called me. I was going to call him to see if he wanted anything -" She sat on John's old bed and held his old teddy bear in her hands.

Clara got up from where she was sitting and sat down next to Grace. "You could pick a few things and take them with you, put them in the nursery they are building for Molly and Greg's baby? I don't think he'd mind." She laid her hand on Grace's knee. "I just want to tell, you, how grateful I am - you don't really know how much it matters to them, do you?" Grace shook her head. "Harry, she's different, hmm...no, that's the wrong word. She's a happier version of herself. I've known her for a long time, and I've never seen her so content, Grace. It's getting to know you and John again, having a family - kids, that wasn't ever going to work out for us - neither of us wanted - we felt like - anyway, but she knows she has people, people who love her. And I know how - it must feel odd at times to have people - I don't know - but, you are loved, Grace, and not just because - I wouldn't have Harry, and Sherlock -"

Grace put the bear down into a box, then leaned against Clara's shoulder. They sat there in silence for a few minutes until Grace kissed Clara's forehead. "I think I need some..."

"Tea."

"Definitely."

 

John watched as Sherlock jumped from the tractor and shook his head. Knee... your knee, you bloody idiot - damn. He's - John strode up to Sherlock, who was smiling at him, all sweaty and glowing, paused for a moment, then tangled his fingers into his curls and pulled him into a deep, intoxicating kiss. Sherlock would have fallen over if not for John holding him up. 

"What was that for?"

John blinked up at him and laid a hand on his chest. "I've never seen you more beautiful than you are right now. You - I just want to -"

Sherlock grinned at him and kissed him gently. "Howard is going to show me how to park this monster and I'll be right upstairs - run us a bath? Hmmm?"

"Don't take too long." John murmured at him.

"I won't. I promise."

 

From: sholmes@bliss.uk  
To: mholmes@gov.uk

 

Myc -

I've been getting away from texting, I don't even know where my mobile is right now, if you can believe it. Attached you will find a couple of snaps of me on my tractor, yes, she's bright red. Don't know why she's a she, but she is, haven't found the right name for her yet, seems important somehow to give her the right name.

Anyway, the farm is getting there, I'm trying to see if I can get the bees going before it gets too cold, but I may have to wait til next spring. Greg and Molly have visited, and Harry and Clara were here for a week, no, there were no casualities, and we just had John's mum here over the weekend. She will be moving in soon, and we couldn't be happier. Yes, I know it's a lot to consider, but it's all good, there is more - but the kettle is screaming. When you and Alicia can find the time, please come and stay for a bit. We even have wifi, in case you can't leave work behind.

-S

 

"So, Sherlock literally bought a farm?" Alicia grinned as she looked over his shoulder.

"Hmm. Yes. Wasn't sure how he was going to fare, but it appears -"

"Oh, Myc. Look - that's not, it can't be -" Alicia pointed to the snaps of Sherlock waving to John, with a ridiculous grin on his face.

"Yes, that's my brother, seems he's lost his mind."

"No, Myc, seems he's finally found it. Come to bed, it's late."

"In a minute, Ali."

 

From: mholmes@gov.uk  
To: sholmes@bliss.uk

 

Brother, mine. Alicia and I both agree we've never seen you happier. Sussex looks good on you. We'll check our schedules 

 

"We have time next month, Myc."

 

and see what we can do about coming to visit. Give our best to John.

-M


	3. Chapter 3

"What are you laughing at, love?" Greg kissed Molly's shoulder as she was looking at her phone.

"Hey, home early." She smiled at him and showed him her mobile. "Just a couple of snaps of Sherlock and his tractor, John says they've decided her name is Matilda."

Greg stared at the image of Sherlock and grinned. "Brilliant. How are you, love?"

Molly rolled her eyes and sighed, "other than wanting to eat everything that's not nailed down - what is it?"

"Just never thought to see him that happy, wasn't sure -"

"I know, I know you miss him."

"Yeah, London seems quieter without the two of 'em causing trouble..." Greg sighed and kissed her again, then went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. "Shall we order some take-away?"

"Indian?"

"Sure that's not too spicy - Indian it is."

 

S -

John just sent me a couple of snaps of you and Matilda. I hope you know how happy Greg and I are that you two are in such a good place, finally. And it's brilliant about John's family, that's so exciting, for all of you. I know how long you've wanted something like this for you and John, and Grace sounds amazing, I can't wait to meet her. 

Baby M, as Greg calls her, I think it's a girl, I don't know why, just a feeling, already, is settling in nicely, in a couple of weeks, we should be able to finally see her and hear her heartbeat. It's funny to be doing this, now. I always thought I'd have a bunch of kids, it just didn't work out that way, but it's so funny to watch Greg looking at me when he thinks I don't notice. He gets that soft, squishy look in his eyes, and then looks away when he knows I can see him. He's just a softie, really and misses the two of you, a lot, more than he tells me. Hoping we can get more time off soon to come see you. And yes, I will send you snaps of Baby M and a recording of her heartbeat if I can swing it... 

...Dinner's here, I've been craving spicy food lately, Greg is more of a fish and chips man, but he's game to try new things, tonight is Indian - I have to admit, I think I'm learning more about you in the letters you've been sending me over the last couple of weeks than I've ever managed to figure out from seeing you at least three times a week over the last few years, with of course the two year drought - I hope you know how proud I am of you, and how much you are missed. 

I do have to tell you about this one case, I almost texted you, until I remembered...."

 

"Dinner's here, Moll -"

"Be there in a second."

 

Have to go, dinner's here, and of course I'm starving, though I just had a bag of crisps and a couple of bananas and...never you mind how many biscuits with my tea.

Much love,  
-Moll

 

John watched as Sherlock slowly nearly fell asleep into his dinner. He had been going a million miles an hour, and that was only the slightest of exaggeration, and finally he was crashing. After Howard had left, and after their morning ablutions, as Sherlock had started calling them, they took Gertrude into the village, had tea with Z and Gladys, and visited the little library where the librarian instantly recognized them, asked after Grace, then showed them where she kept the old Franklin records.

 

"So glad someone has taken over the old place. We were beginning to worry that it would never be properly lived in, I've heard you two are going to try to make something of it."

Sherlock had managed to calm down enough to speak quietly of his plans and finally she had left them to look at the files she had pulled out. There were ledgers and acreage maps and designs for little apiary houses, never built as far as they could determine - "Oh, John, look - it would take some time, but maybe some day - do you think?" John touched his face gently and nodded.

"We can do anything, love. I think we've already proved that, haven't we."

Sherlock blinked and calmed his breathing then gazed into John's eyes. "A few times over, now, I think, John." 

The librarian, her name was Roberta, John recalled later, said she would make them copies of everything, and they were more than welcome to look at the originals at any time, and she had handed John an envelope when they were leaving. "I think this might be of interest to you, or at least to your mum." John nodded and thanked her and they went out to the truck and settled in for the short ride home.

"Open it."

"Sherlock."

"Please?" 

Sherlock was humming, in that way he did when he was ridiculously pleased with everything, and though John was hitting his wall, he was already becoming accustomed to the quiet of the farm, Sherlock's enthusiasm was contagious, so he opened the envelope carefully to find some black and white snaps of who could only be Grace and Emily happily working with the bees completely oblivious of the photographer. 

"Oh. John."

"She was lovely, both of them - look at Mum...she was -"

"Happy."

"We'll have to put these in a book for her." John looked up into Sherlock's eyes and shrugged. "I wish -"

"I know."

"I don't want to try to make it up to her, for what she lost when Emily died, I just want to make sure she knows..."

"I think she does, John. I do. Home?"

"Home."

 

"Love?"

"Hmm?" Sherlock raised his head and blinked slowly at John. "Did I fall asleep?"

"Not quite, let's go upstairs before I have to carry you up."

Sherlock grinned at him, "can't remember the last time - I do, actually, you halfway carried me up the steps after that little reception Mrs. H threw for us...or did I carry you...seems so long ago now."

"Bed."

Gertrude gave them a look as she climbed the stairs; to John, it always seemed she was sighing at them, in her own tolerant way, telling them to get a move on.

John helped Sherlock from his chair, then wrapped his arm around Sherlock's waist taking Sherlock's weight as he leaned against him. "We'll be there in a minute, Gert."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry, not sorry...trying to turn the angst here into squish

John woke up with a start. He sat up and took a deep breath and let it go. Today. Today was the day everything changed, seven years ago. No. No, not today. Today he was going to find something else, something to replace the anniversary that hung over everything, even still. He knew it, Sherlock knew it, they had tried to avoid it, the elephant they tried to walk around. No. Not any longer was it going to take any more from him, from them. He laid down again and looked over at Sherlock, watching him, waiting for him to speak or move, something.

John kissed Sherlock's nose crinkle, and smiled. Sherlock rolled his eyes, then bit his lip, still worried, a bit unsure. John shook his head and pulled Sherlock against him, letting him know - letting him know just how much he needed him, how so very necessary he was. How absolved he was of that day. The day they had both spent so long regretting, the time they lost - mistakes, errors of judgment on both sides. It was time to let it be.

"I love you. I love you. I love you." John whispered at Sherlock's ear. "Today will not be an unhappy memory. We will make love until our stomachs growl, or until we pass out, then I will make you whatever the hell you want to eat, and you will take me out in Matilda...or I will just hold you in my arms all day and we won't move a muscle, or say another word. We will just be. I will - "

"John." Sherlock kissed him softly, more sweetly than John could ever remember, and gazed down into his eyes. "My conductor of light; each morning I wake up and I know I have made it through another night, to another morning, another day I get to be with you - today is just like any other day I've ever spent with you, except, you know fully and truly how much I love you. I know, because it is there in your eyes, in how fiercely you are holding me, making sure I know. Making sure I know how much you love me, and I do know, John. I had an idea the night you woke up in hospital, and finally asked me to curl up next to you; I had glimpses before, when you cared for me, I had hopes for a moment like this, dreams - but they never measured up to what I have at this moment, John. The light in your dark blue eyes, the slight smile you can't stop, how I feel you against me, warm and trembling - what I did that day, I did to make this morning possible, so one day, I could drown in your eyes as you make love to me. Please, John?"

There was nothing left to say.

 

John opened his eyes and reached for his phone. Noon. And four missed text messages.

 

John, are you ok? - Molly

John - Mum called me, she's left you three messages. - H

Mate, how are you, know it's a rough day - GL

John, call me, call Mum - H

 

He sighed, knowing it was better just to get it over with.

 

"Hey, Mum - no, I'm fine, we just slept in, sorry, didn't mean to worry you. I know, we love you, too."

 

I'm fine, Harry, just overslept - J

 

We're good, Greg, miss our nights at the local, mate, thank you for checking up. - J

 

I'm fine Molly, we're good, I promise, just had a lie-in. - J

 

He turned off his phone, put it back on the bedside table and sighed as Sherlock kissed his neck. 

"They love you, John."

John nodded and rolled over to face him. His curls were slightly damp, and he was shivering a bit.

"I woke up and Gert needed a walk, and you were sleeping so soundly, I didn't want to wake you. Of course, it started raining again, I got a few meters down the road and I missed you. I know it's ridiculous, John, because I knew you were up here asleep in our bed, but I needed to be sure. So, I whistled for her, and I ran back here, she rushed up the stairs ahead of me, and stopped at your side of the bed, as if to show me you were right where I left you -"

"I'm here, love." John gently laid his hand on Sherlock's hip and moved closer to him; he closed his eyes as he felt Sherlock trembling under his fingers. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. I'm here, love."


	5. Chapter 5

Grace stood in the empty kitchen, everything had been given away or put into storage, she wasn't quite sure why, but she let Harry and Clara take the lead on it. She didn't need much, she had never needed or wanted anything - after Emily, she considered, she had wanted very little. She was wondering how she had spent so many years alone in this grey place when her phone buzzed.

 

"Mum. We're here."

"Be right out."

 

She looked around at what had been her house for over fifty years one last time, then walked out the front door, closing it behind her, and locking it for the final time. Harry and Clara were waiting for her in their car, she would stay with them for a week, then return to Sussex, back home, finally, to never leave it again.

 

As John looked through the snaps of Emily and Grace once again, he wondered at who had taken them, perhaps Howard would know, it seemed he had known the girls better than anyone as they grew up. He looked across the desk at Sherlock, who was reading through the old records that Grace had given them. He seemed fine, just concentrating on all of the new data, but his face seemed closed off - stop. Just talk to him.

"Can I, would you like some tea, biscuits, toast? It's been a while since we've eaten anything."

Sherlock looked up at him and blinked. "John. These records are fascinating, to see how carefully everything was done, the science - the luck, there was definitely some luck with the weather, and -" He stopped and watched John's face for a moment. "I'm - fine, John, better than fine. But, yes, toast and tea, that sounds perfect. I think perhaps Howard took those snaps, tomorrow when we return to the library, we should try to find out who took them. I wonder if he -"

"I want to write their story, Sherlock. Before Mum - and Z - I finally know what I want to write. Everyone knows more than enough about us, but, I want -what?"

Sherlock placed a bookmark in the ledger, then closed it, and moved to stand in front of John. "I think - it's perfect. You are remarkable, John." He offered John his hand and whispered, "I also think, it's time for tea and a bit of toast?"

 

Z looked over at John, as they were finishing their tea, and shrugged. "I don't know why you'd want -"

"Do you mind if I - I - if it's something that -"

"Doc."

"I just, I suppose it's selfish, but I want to know, I guess - I've spent so much of my life not knowing anything about my family - and now, I -"

"My blessing means that much to you?" 

John nodded. "It's not just her story, it's yours, it's the village's story I want to tell, I saw these photographs -"

"Photographs?"

"Just snaps of Grace and Emily, working with the bees." John pulled the envelope out of his pocket and gave it to Z. "I want to write about the girls in those snaps, Z. Do you know who took them?"

Z nodded. "Howard. Howard adored them, still adores your mum, he - I think he still has the negatives." He paused and pulled his specs from his pocket and settled them on his nose. "Grace was twelve, Emily was seven, it was a good day, Emily had bad lungs, these days, she could have had nebulizer treatments, problem always was, she was just born too soon, I was always amazed she could be out there with Grace, they were always out in that pasture, exploring, tending the bees, usually Howard carried Em on his back, as she tired easily, and he was big even then - she was so tiny - she was stubborn, but sweet, always managed to do what she wanted. Yeah, talk to Howard. See what he thinks, but I know he misses those days, I don't think he'd mind talking to you - he's one of those that remembers everything, like your Sherlock. How is he, any way? Seems a bit quieter today."

John turned towards the kitchen to see Sherlock going over the ledgers with Gladys, a look of contentment on his face, his focus entirely on what Gladys was saying.

"He's fine, when he gets his mind going on something -" Sherlock looked up then and gave John a smile then returned his gaze back to the book to ask Gladys a question. "He's good, Z, it's just yesterday -"

"I know. Anniversaries. They shouldn't mean as much as they do, but, sometimes the memories just pop up and you wonder why, and then you notice what day it is - something like that?"

John nodded. "I hadn't been keeping track, but when I woke up yesterday -"

"Snuck up on you, a bit of an ambush...been there - come on, then Doc, if yer serious about writing about Grace and Em, you want to take a look at these scrapbooks, I always wondered why I held on to them, long as I did. Knew there was a reason..."

 

"How is John? Seems a bit, worried isn't the word, just watching over you a bit more than usual."

Sherlock looked over then, and met John's eyes. "Yesterday -" She nodded, knowing what he meant, and she didn't need to say anything, but laid her hand over his and gave it a tiny squeeze. "Now, do you remember why this year was so bad? I don't see anything in the weather records..."

 

Gertrude looked up at them a couple of hours later, and John shook his head, then shrugged; she always was paying attention, always seemed to know things, how or why, it didn't quite matter for some reason. She got up from her place on the porch and led them down the stairs and over to the store.


	6. Chapter 6

"Mornin' John, Sherlock, Gertrude, here you go -" Howard gave her a head scratch and her normal treat and watched as she settled into her spot. "How's the tractor running?"

"Very nicely, Howard. Matilda's purring like a kitten." Sherlock grinned, then quietly went over to check out the jars of honey to make sure he hadn't missed anything.

"Actually, I was wondering - did you take these snaps?" John handed Howard the envelope and watched the older man's face transform to something much younger than his seventy-something years. 

"Yeah. Hmmm...wow. I, uhm, got this little camera for my birthday that spring, and that year, for whatever reason, Emily had no problems being outside, the weather, it was perfect, not too much rain, just enough for everything to grow, but the things that tired her out, made it hard for her to breathe, they weren't around, never knew why." He shrugged and looked closely at the prints."I still have the negatives. Have you shown these to Gracie, I mean, your mum, yet?"

John shook his head. "Roberta - she gave them to us, when we were there, looking at the old Franklin records, a couple of days ago, I don't know if they were with the other documents, or if -"

Howard nodded. "She, Roberta, I mean, was going to do a picture book, a scrapbook, a record, I guess of the village, back before Emily died and Grace - ya know -" John nodded. "She never got around to it - the negatives, I kept them safe, and I still have my old equipment -"

"I was considering - I'm supposed to be writing, a memoir or some such thing while Sherlock does his 'bee thing' - and I wanted to write about Grace and Emily, and you? If that would - I'm thinking like a children's book, not necessarily a non-fiction book, but I was curious, if it would be something -"

Howard was silent for a moment, then sat down on the stool by the register. John had never seen him sit before when they had visited the store; he was always moving, busy with things, talking to customers, rearranging the items on the shelves. He sat still for a few minutes, looking at his hands, then glanced up at John and studied his face for a long time before answering. "I would - if Gracie doesn't mind, I'd be honoured to work on this with you, John. The girls were my best friends growing up, we were essentially the three musketeers, or the stooges, your mum was quite the, she had a wicked sense of humor, and Em, she was brilliant. Damn. Yeah, I'll dig up those negatives, and see how they've fared." Suddenly, Howard hopped up and shook John's hand. "Just give me a few days, and I'll see what I can come up with, thank you - I - those days are more real to me than most of the last, I don't know, forty years have been. Do you know what I mean?"

John nodded. He looked over at Sherlock who was gazing at him, unabashedly, almost as if he could see into John's thoughts. Those first months with Sherlock were as clear to him still, as these last weeks in Sussex had been. The memories of those days were what kept him - he blinked and squeezed Howard's hand. "I know exactly what you mean. Just let me know, stop by the farm, or - whenever - thank you, Howard, it means a lot. I'm glad you were there, were Grace's friend - I'm sorry for -"

Howard shook his head. "No. As I told her, I understood. In her place, I would have left too, but I had the store, my dad needed me to stay and take it over, and then the wars, and Phil - you know. I'm just glad she's coming back and that you and Sherlock are here to get the farm going again."

Sherlock brought over the two jars of honey he had discovered, and Howard shook his head. "Just - take care of them," nodding at John and Gertrude as they headed for the truck. 

"I will, Howard." They shook hands, then Howard put the honey in a small box and pushed it toward Sherlock. "They are my life."

"I know. I knew it the first day you walked in here."


End file.
